Lin Zhexia supported herself on the armrest of the sofa to stand up, but before she was fully stable, she hurriedly retreated backward.

Her nose bridge was still faintly aching.

Beyond the pain, she seemed to detect a slight scent of laundry detergent, the same smell she had caught outside the alley on the day Chi Yao was fighting.

After she completely steadied herself, she explained, “…I just lost my balance earlier.”

“And who would want to cling to you anyway? You’re someone even a dog wouldn’t want to stick to.”

After what had just happened, she no longer had any desire to change the contact name.

She slowly forced out another sentence: “Fine, don’t change it then. I’m magnanimous enough to overlook petty matters, so I’ll let you off the hook.”

Chi Yao, however, wasn’t planning to move past the contact name topic.

He looked at her, stretching the hand that she had just pressed against, and said, “Give me your phone.”

Lin Zhexia: “?”

Chi Yao spoke again: “Let’s see the contact name.”

“…”

Lin Zhexia slowly opened her mouth.

She wanted to say something, but couldn’t get the words out.

Because the name she had saved for him seemed even less presentable.

“I already said,” Lin Zhexia began feeling guilty, clutching her phone and secretly hiding it behind her back, “I’m not going to fuss about it anymore, why are you still harping on this?”

Chi Yao asked: “What did you save my contact as?”

Lin Zhexia blurted out: “Chi Yao the Handsome Guy.”

Chi Yao didn’t believe her.

Lin Zhexia emphasized: “Really, you should be more confident about your looks.”

Though Chi Yao didn’t believe her, he couldn’t be bothered to argue with her further. He sat with his legs bent, hand propping up his chin, feeling a bit drowsy after taking the medicine.

“I’m very confident. You can leave now.”

Lin Zhexia seized the opportunity to slip away: “Take your temperature again tomorrow morning when you wake up to see if your fever has gone down. The cake is in the refrigerator. Remember to eat it.”

Reaching the doorway, she remembered one more thing.

“Also, about yesterday,” she paused and said, “thank you.”

She rarely thanked Chi Yao so politely. More often, when Chi Yao helped her, she would still act smug despite getting the advantage, and then they would continue arguing back and forth until both forgot what they were arguing about in the first place, eventually letting the matter drop.

But yesterday’s incident was different for her.

She was truly.

Very grateful to Chi Yao from yesterday.

After Lin Zhexia returned home, she began diligently catching up on her homework.

Apart from her childhood “rebellious” phase when she loved fighting, her personality was quite obedient. For instance, she didn’t like putting off homework due today until tomorrow.

However, after doing just a few problems on an English test paper, she found it difficult to concentrate.

Because she couldn’t help but recall the scene from earlier.

They had been very close just now.

She had inadvertently glimpsed that Chi Yao had a very faint mole on his neck, near his ear.

…

No.

What did his mole have to do with her?

Why was she getting distracted over a mole?

So annoying.

She put down her pen.

She stared at the test paper for a while longer, finally giving up the struggle and deciding to browse her phone for a bit.

Just then, she received a WeChat call from Chen Lin.

Chen Lin started by asking: “Have you finished your homework?”

Lin Zhexia understood right away and continued: “…Finished, so you can copy it?”

“Hehe,” Chen Lin said, “being deskmates wasn’t for nothing, you know me so well.”

She added, “I knew you would have finished it already.”

Lin Zhexia, lying on her desk, said: “I haven’t finished. You should ask Tang Shuxuan.”

Chen Lin: “You haven’t finished it?”

Lin Zhexia: “Today was my mom’s birthday, and then I went to Chi…” she said this far and subconsciously skipped this part. “Anyway, I’ve been busy all day and just started working on it.”

Chen Lin: “Oh, I see. Tang Shuxuan definitely can’t be counted on, looks like I’ll have to do the homework myself today.”

After saying this, Chen Lin was about to hang up.

Lin Zhexia suddenly said, “Wait.”

Chen Lin paused: “Huh?”

“I have something I want to ask you.”

Lin Zhexia hesitated a bit: “It’s about a friend of mine.”

She squeezed her pen and continued: “This friend of mine has another very good friend, a boy, but recently she feels like things between her and this boy have become a bit strange.”

Chen Lin directly asked: “What’s strange between you and Chi Yao?”

Lin Zhexia almost snapped her pen: “…”

Lin Zhexia: “Say. That. Again.”

Chen Lin: “Ahem, let me rephrase. Your friend and her friend, what’s strange about them?”

“They just, sometimes when they get too close to each other, they start to feel a bit uncomfortable.”

Chen Lin perked up her ears, thinking she was about to hear some earth-shattering gossip, but after waiting a long time, all she got was this: “That’s it?”

Lin Zhexia: “What do you mean ‘that’s it’? Isn’t that enough? Me and Chi Yao… I mean, my friend and her friend used to be so close they could share the same pants without feeling uncomfortable.”

Chen Lin fell silent.

After the silence, she asked: “This ‘used to be,’ how long ago was it?”

Lin Zhexia: “Around eight years old, I stole his pants to wear.”

“…”

Chen Lin fell silent again.

Lin Zhexia: “And when we were ten, I braided his hair, and he was angry for a long time.”

Lin Zhexia: “And also…”

Chen Lin: “Stop, enough.”

Lin Zhexia: “?”

“Lin Zhexia, you’re not eight years old anymore, nor are you ten. You are now sixteen.”

Chen Lin let out a long sigh. “What you’re experiencing isn’t strangeness, it’s that you’ve grown up and finally realized that Chi Yao is a boy, a boy whose pants you can’t steal anymore, understand?”

Lin Zhexia: “…”

After a while.

Lin Zhexia said, “I understand.”

She had vaguely been aware of this point before, but she hadn’t seen it as clearly as Chen Lin did.

Ever since she saw that new version of Chi Yao.

She found that she could no longer do many of the things she did as a child in front of him so freely.

“No,” she quickly added, “my friend probably understands now.”

Chi Yao’s fever wasn’t anything serious; after a night’s sleep, his temperature returned to normal.

Lin Zhexia didn’t believe it and pressed him to take his temperature again.

Chi Yao returned to his usual casual and somewhat arrogant demeanor: “I told you I’m fine.”

Lin Zhexia: “Maybe it’s because you took medicine yesterday.”

Chi Yao: “I would have been fine without it, too.”

Lin Zhexia: “…”

This person, in some ways.

I was just very concerned about saving face.

In the end, looking at the thermometer, she had to admit that he had indeed recovered very quickly.

Midway through the winter break, Lin He went to the hospital for another prenatal checkup.

The results were not optimistic.

“At your age, having a child carries significant risks,” the doctor said, holding the test results as Lin Zhexia accompanied Lin He to the hospital. “I can’t make any promises. It’s as I told you before, think it through carefully.”

Lin He sat outside, somewhat lost: “Mom is torn now. My rational side tells me I shouldn’t have this child. Your Wei Uncle and I had already decided before we came, but…”

Lin Zhexia could understand this feeling.

During this time, she had grown accustomed to the idea of Lin He being pregnant. Whenever she thought about the potential brother or sister possibly being gone, she felt a bit empty inside, let alone Lin He herself.

She suddenly realized she was witnessing Lin He’s vulnerability.

Or rather, as she grew up, she gradually discovered that “adults” weren’t the superheroes she thought they were as a child.

There were many unexpected events in life that even adults couldn’t resist.

“Mom,” she reached for Lin He’s hand, “don’t be sad. Let’s go home and think about it some more. Whatever decision you make, Wei Uncle and I will be by your side.”

Lin He came back to her senses and squeezed her hand in return.

In the end, they followed the doctor’s advice, prioritizing Lin He’s health, unwilling to take too great a risk.

Since the pregnancy was at the right stage, the surgery was scheduled quickly.

On the day of the procedure, Wei Ping prepared many things for the hospital stay, and Lin Zhexia accompanied them.

Because she was so worried about potential complications with the surgery, she sent many, many messages to Chi Yao beforehand, so Chi Yao also came to the hospital.

The memory of that day seemed very long.

The long hospital corridor, the lingering smell of disinfectant, and doctors coming and going in white coats. And Wei Ping’s figure was pacing back and forth constantly.

It all felt like a silent film being repeatedly stretched out.

Lin Zhexia’s final impression of that day was that she couldn’t control her nervousness and gripped Chi Yao’s hand tightly.

By the time the surgery was completed, she realized she had been gripping it for a very long time.

She abruptly released her hand.

“You’re done squeezing one hand.” Chi Yao looked at her and pulled her out of that endless silent film, “Ready to switch to the other one?”

“…May I?” Lin Zhexia asked.

Chi Yao withdrew his hand and said, “You wish.”

Lin He’s surgery went very smoothly.

Afterward, Wei Ping called her to the ward, and she hurriedly gathered some things.

She wasn’t sure when Chi Yao had left, but after she finished packing, she belatedly realized that he had been part of almost every major and minor event in her life.

The winter break was brief, and soon after Lin He was discharged, the Spring Festival arrived.

The previously bare streets seemed to have transformed overnight, with red lanterns hanging everywhere, filling the streets with festive decorations.

That evening after dinner, Lin Zhexia dragged Chi Yao out for a stroll around the streets.

“Yesterday, there was nothing on this street. She wore a very thick cotton jacket, looking like a moving white ball from a distance, and today, so many decorations have appeared at once.”

Chi Yao followed slowly behind her and remarked, “Anyone would think you live at the North Pole.”

The white ball stopped and said: “I’m certainly different from someone who likes to pose and show off, wearing ultra-thin jeans in the dead of winter and refusing to wear thermal underwear.”

Chi Yao ignored her and walked straight ahead.

Lin Zhexia caught up and asked: “Spring Festival is coming soon, are your uncle and aunt coming back?”

“Don’t know,” Chi Yao said.

Lin Zhexia: “Haven’t you asked them?”

Chi Yao appeared indifferent: “Too lazy to ask.”

Lin Zhexia muttered softly: “They’re too busy with their business outside. They didn’t come back last year either. They should at least come back for a quick visit.”

Chi Yao’s parents were rarely home.

Family and career seemed to be something difficult for adults to balance.

Her impression of Chi Yao’s father and mother wasn’t deep either, and she couldn’t say she knew them well.

The only time she had interacted with them the most was because of an argument.

That was many years ago.

When she was younger, she was less sensible and her temper wasn’t as good as it is now.

She saw how Chi Yao, every time he got sick, would always stay in the hospital alone, with no family members beside him, only a hired caretaker auntie keeping him company, and more than once she had wondered: why don’t his parents come to see him?

One day, she happened to run into Chi Yao’s parents returning home, and she angrily ran to the entrance of Nanxiang Street to confront them.

Chi Yao’s parents were just passing through, coming back to pick up some things.

Their car was temporarily parked at the entrance of Nanxiang Street.

After getting what they needed, the two were about to get into the car when suddenly a little girl rushed out from the street entrance. The little girl blocked the car door: “Chi Yao was hospitalized last month, did you know?”

“Why didn’t you come to see him?”

“Being alone in the hospital,” the young Lin Zhexia said, “is very lonely.”

As she spoke, she tried hard to keep a straight face, standing her ground in front of the adults: “Even though he doesn’t say it, when he’s alone in the hospital, he must want to see you.”

The result of this incident was being dragged home by Lin He, who had rushed over after hearing about it.

Lin He first apologized repeatedly: “I’m so sorry, the child is still young.”

Back home, behind closed doors, Lin He earnestly educated her: “No matter what, this is ultimately someone else’s family business. How could you speak to someone else’s parents like that? You need to have boundaries when doing things, don’t be so reckless.”

As she grew older, Lin Zhexia gradually understood what Lin He had said back then—the adult world requires boundaries.

She would no longer rush over and directly question as she did when she was a child. When she met Chi Yao’s parents, she would politely greet them.

…

Thinking about all this, Lin Zhexia somewhat childishly thought:

But whether it was when she was young or now.

She still felt that what Chi Yao’s parents did was very wrong.

The two of them walked along the lively long street.

The street was very long, with festive red lanterns extending to the end.

The street lamps elongated their shadows.

Lin Zhexia was short, and her pace was quite slow.

But Chi Yao always maintained a speed similar to hers.

Halfway down the street, Lin Zhexia turned around to face Chi Yao.

Chi Yao watched as Lin Zhexia stood under the bright red lanterns, smiling with crinkled eyes, saying: “It doesn’t matter if they don’t come back, anyway, I’ll keep you company.”

The girl’s crisp voice blended into the surrounding bustle.

“You can come to my house for the New Year, and we can stay up to welcome the new year together again.”

Chi Yao lowered his eyes, and after a moment, wanted to respond with “you always fall asleep like a pig before ten o’clock, what staying up are you talking about,” but as the words reached his lips, he didn’t utter a single one.

In the end, he looked away and made a sound of acknowledgment from his throat.

Lin Zhexia was walking backward, not noticing the child on a small bicycle who was careening past her.

Before she heard the “ding-ling-ling” of the child’s bicycle bell, Chi Yao grabbed her arm and pulled her toward him—

At the same time, someone on the street was setting off firecrackers to kick off the Spring Festival celebrations.

Amidst the crackling of firecrackers, she heard the four words Chi Yao said.

“Idiot, watch the road.”